In the Beginning
by Melissa Rivers
Summary: What does motherhood hold? First person story.


TITLE: In the Beginning  
AUTHOR: Melissa Rivers  
EMAIL: missy@lexicon.net  
WEBSITE: http://www.geocities.com/missyliannem/sg1  
CATEGORY: Episode Tag  
SPOILERS: Major spoilers for Singularity - Season 1  
RATING: PG  
SUMMARY: What does motherhood hold? First person story.  
STATUS: Complete  
ARCHIVING: Heliopolis; Stargatefan; Otherwise, not without permission.  
DISCLAIMER:  
Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double  
Secret Productions and Gekko Productions. I have written this story for entertainment purposes  
only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended.   
AUTHOR NOTES: Big thank you to Poss and Denise for taking on the role of editing for this story and  
providing the correct technical details.  
  
  
  
Motherhood. It has been thrust upon me without much planning at all. Correction - there was no  
planning. Most mothers have at least nine months in which to prepare for the arrival of their new child.   
Me? No, I don't do things the easy way at all. I take on a twelve year old who had been the sole  
survivor of a Goa'uld's annihilation of a nation and subsequently used as a walking time bomb to  
destroy our own world. Not only that, but I decide to do it as a single mother who has an active and  
demanding job.   
  
When Cassie had needed a home, I had willingly offered to take her. At first it had been only until the  
right family was found, one which had the appropriate clearances and understanding of her history.   
There hadn't been an influx of offers once her chequered history and age became known.  
  
Truth was, once she had come into my house, I had begun praying that they wouldn't be found. My  
house had always been quiet when I arrived home from work - if I actually made it home at all. Once  
Cassie was there, quietness was only something that existed in my sleep and I had a reason to go home  
each night. To my relief, Cassie's unorthodox arrival on Earth had dictated that there was no chance of  
either of us undergoing the usual DCFS checks that go with adopting a child.  
  
Now, it was three months since she began living with me. Time had gone by quickly and so had my  
sanity in some respects. Locked away in my office, free from the demands of my role as Chief Medical  
Officer for the SGC, I fingered the telephone message that had been handed to me fifteen minutes ago.   
I knew I had to return the call; the underlined and capitalised word URGENT stressing its importance.   
I was pretty sure I knew what it was all about. It was the third of such calls in as many weeks.   
  
Dropping the note on to the pile of files cluttering my desk and waiting for final reports to be written, I  
picked up the gold picture frame. Cassie's smiling face looked back at me, a hint of cheekiness in the  
grin. Her eyes sparkled with happiness, her arms were thrust tightly around the ruffled coat of the spitz  
dog Jack had given her. The photo had been taken three weeks after she had begun living with me and  
already it seemed like a lifetime. On that occasion, things had been going well and she was exploring  
her new surroundings on Earth with the vigour and zest for life that only a child can muster.   
  
It was only the night terrors that kept me grounded, reminding me that there was more going on inside  
her head than she was letting on. As the weeks progressed, life in my house was as much of a  
challenge as that of my work. More issues began rearing their heads and were needing to be dealt  
with. It wasn't easy as some of the problems were interwoven while others had distinct differences.   
Cassie didn't wait for me to get one challenge in hand before handing me another. Now I knew what  
jugglers felt like when they had several balls in the air at once and all of them decided that gravity was in  
vogue.   
  
My medical degree did not prepare me for instant motherhood and my specialty was definitely not in  
child psychiatry. There wasn't the option of using a child psychologist outside the SGC and the military  
didn't exactly have staff equipped to deal with the problems I was facing. So had begun the dance  
between Cassie and myself. I had always liked the waltz but it appeared that Cassie preferred the Cha  
Cha - a dance style that always ensured I ended up with a splitting headache.  
  
Picking up the message again, I resigned myself to make the call. The longer I put it off, the worse it  
would be. I wondered what my daughter had been up to at school this time.   
  
"Mr. Robinson, this is Janet Fraiser - Cassandra's mother. "  
  
"Ah. Yes, Ms...Dr. Fraiser. I'm the Vice Principal at Cassandra's school. There has been another  
incident today and her class teacher, Mrs. Struble, has brought her behaviour in recent weeks to my  
attention."  
  
"What happened this time?" I tried to make my voice as bland as possible, removing the dread that was  
pervading my mind.  
  
"Cassandra will not say what happened, but other students who witnessed the ah - altercation have  
said that there was a bit of name calling going on and Cassandra reacted violently to it."  
  
"Violent? In what way?" I grimaced at the choice of words. Waiting for the answer, I ran my fingers   
nervously through my hair. Violent was a rather harsh term to use with a twelve year old, but, in light  
of her recent destructive behaviour with inanimate objects, it might be totally appropriate.   
  
"She punched a boy in the face. He suffered a blood nose. But there doesn't appear to be any other  
injuries; other than wounded pride on his part."  
  
I caught the faint undercurrent of laughter in those final words and was a bit surprised. I brushed it  
aside. My concern right now was Cassandra. "What about Cassie?"  
  
"Cassandra is having some time-out from the other children at the moment while I was waiting to speak  
with you. She'll return to the classroom this afternoon." Mr Robinson paused for a moment, seeming to  
choose his words carefully. "I am concerned about the recent deterioration in her behaviour. Mrs.  
Struble has pointed out that over the last four weeks Cassandra has been disruptive during class and  
her behaviour with other children has been antagonistic. Right now, I think it would be of benefit to all   
if we can get together to discuss how to manage the situation."  
  
My mind screamed no, yet the words that came out of my mouth agreed with him. They had betrayed  
me and I felt helpless to avoid the meeting. I couldn't believe that I, who managed to keep even the  
most wayward Colonel O'Neill in line with a clipped tone and the threat of a needle - or an enema or  
two - couldn't manage the antics of a twelve year old.   
  
Arranging a suitable time for later that afternoon, I replaced the handset into the cradle. Tapping my  
fingers on the handset, I thought for a moment before picking up phone again. Dialing a familiar   
extension I waited patiently for it to be answered, subconsciously counting the number of rings. I was  
just one ring off eight when the phone was finally picked up. I winced as a loud clatter assaulted my  
ears before Daniel's breathless voice answered the phone.  
  
"Busy, Daniel?" I could imagine the state of his office; books and files piled high on his desk, several  
empty styrofoam coffee cups littering the small amount of available space, the cups void of any trace of  
the coffee that Daniel had a tendency to use as his staple diet when engrossed.   
  
"Ah, yes. I'm translating symbols on the artefacts brought back by SG5 from P3X236," Daniel  
answered me distractedly.   
  
Since he was obviously busy, I got straight to the point of my call. "I'm wondering if you will be free  
later this afternoon?"   
  
"Why?" he questioned, his curiosity drawing out the word.  
  
"Cassandra is having some trouble at school..." I began, before being cut off.  
  
"What sort of trouble?"   
  
"Disruptive in class, fighting with other kids. You know the deal."  
  
"Do you want me to talk to Cassandra?"  
  
"Actually, I was only wanting someone to stay with her while I talked to the Vice Principal." I was  
surprised that Daniel would think I wanted him to sit down and talk to Cassandra. But as I thought  
about it, I shouldn't be surprised at all. Daniel was nothing if not willing to offer any assistance to   
anyone in trouble.   
  
"Dr. Fraiser, can you meet me for lunch? I think there is something I should discuss with you."  
  
Now he had me totally confused. "Umm, all right. Would one thirty be okay?"  
  
"One thirty's fine. I'll meet you at the mess."  
  
I looked at the phone in my hand, wondering what the hell had just happened. A simple request for  
Daniel to sit with Cassie while I talked to the Vice Principal had turned into a lunch date to discuss  
something that had Daniel concerned enough to relinquish his translation of artefacts; a cause for  
concern in my own mind as I knew how often Daniel would miss going to bed once he became  
engrossed in his work.  
  
  
  
I was late. I did not run, but my pace was a clipped trot as I tried to hasten my arrival at the  
commissary. Making my way through the familiar grey corridors, I responded automatically to the  
occasional greeting from fellow officers without taking much notice as to whom I was greeting.   
  
It had been a busy morning, dealing with the standard medical clearances for SG2 and 3 returning from  
a four day mission and then the orderly pace of my infirmary was turned upside down by the  
unscheduled return of SG6 after their team was caught in a landslide. All the injuries were relatively  
minor when you consider some of the trauma cases I have been faced with, but the broken bones  
would put two members of the team out of action for at least eight weeks. In the balance of all the  
trauma cases handled so far, SG1 was still miles ahead in the injury stakes. Only Hippocrates and what  
was considered insider trading kept me from entering the betting pool as to who would be the next  
person on SG1 to suffer an injury.   
  
The commissary was buzzing with activity, the noise level voluble. I recognised the source of all the  
cacophony as being SG2 and 3, enjoying the opportunity to relax after their tour of duty and restriction  
to MREs during their travel. Their easy banter filled the room, providing a warm backdrop to the  
sometimes starched atmosphere of the military command. I stood at the doorway for a moment,  
searching through the milling sea of airmen for the unassuming archaeologist, to finally locate him seated  
at a table in the far corner.   
  
I made my way between the metal tables and chairs, side stepping around airmen carrying trays laden  
with food. Daniel was engrossed, writing in a notebook, obviously working diligently on some  
particular aspect of his work. His hand went out automatically to pick up the ever present coffee mug  
and he took a sip without looking away from his work.   
  
I slowly shook my head, smiling to myself, wondering why I didn't find coffee running through his veins  
rather than blood. "Hey Daniel. I'm sorry I'm late."  
  
"Dr. Fraiser. Have a seat." Daniel greeted me formally, waving his hand at the seat opposite him. He  
quickly folded the piece of paper in front of him until it fit neatly between the pages of his notebook and  
shut it quietly, before giving me his full attention. "Did you want to get something to eat ?"  
  
"Only if you do," I said, pointedly looking at his coffee cup, indicating that I really wanted to eat  
something more fulfilling than coffee.  
  
"Okay." Daniel gave a gentle smile as he gave in to my ploy . Obviously I'm not the first to have used  
it on him.  
  
It didn't take us long to collect some sandwiches and more coffee. Sitting down, we ate in silence. I  
watched and waited for Daniel to initiate the first step of the purpose of our lunch. Finally my patience  
wore thin and I avoided the subtle approach, getting straight down to business.  
  
"Daniel, I'm curious as to what you wish to discuss with me." I picked up my coffee cup and took a  
sip as I watched Daniel closely, looking for an indication of what had instigated our meeting.   
  
He paused mid-bite, before placing the half-eaten sandwich back down on the plate and pushing it  
aside.   
  
"Uhmm, yes, well..." Daniel coughed a moment and cleared his throat. He hesitated, obviously trying  
to broach whatever was on his mind without offending me. "You mentioned that Cassie was having  
behavioural problems at school."  
  
"Yes," I answered. I couldn't be offended by his inquiry, considering that I had called him to help me  
later this afternoon for my eagerly anticipated parent-teacher meeting. Not. I rubbed my fingers across  
my brow, trying to ease the slight pressure that was increasing behind my right eye. Running my left  
finger around the top of the coffee mug in front of me, I told him what had happened.   
  
"The school bully?" Daniel pushed away his plate, his sandwich half-eaten.  
  
"I have no idea." I frowned at his question. Granted, there had been a glimmer of something in Mr.  
Robinson's words, but I wasn't about to make any assumption, nor condone Cassie's actions if indeed it  
was the school bully she had hit. "What makes you think it would be?"  
  
"Ah, just a hunch." Daniel was mimicking my actions, running his own finger around the top of the mug  
and gazing into the charcoal depths. His blue eyes clouded as they shrouded something beneath the  
surface that I wasn't able to identify.   
  
I frowned, bowing my head as I searched my memory for an indication as to where this conversation  
might be headed. When I raised my head again, Daniel's eyes were bright, but clear of the murkiness  
that had visited them moments before. He questioned me directly. "How's Cassie been settling in at  
home?"  
  
"The six weeks or so was fine, but we've been having a few teething problems." I sat back in my chair,  
trying to get comfortable talking about a situation that had me on my toes at the best of times. A lot of  
the time I felt like I was on a thirty foot high dive board, balancing precariously on the edge, biding my  
time to get the nerve to jump and make an exquisite entrance into the water, when someone pushes me  
off the edge and I hit the water with the grace of an elephant.   
"The honeymoon and the testing period."  
  
"What?" I looked at him, his comment surprising me and pulling me quickly out of my self-pity.  
  
"The honeymoon period when a child is placed in a new environment. They tend to be on their best  
behaviour, making the new care giver want to keep them. Once they have established their place in the  
house, they begin testing the waters so to speak."  
  
"It sounds like you know a bit about it."   
  
"Let's just say I practised the technique often enough."  
  
I looked at Daniel quizzically, surprised by the revelation. "You were adopted?"  
  
"No. No one decided I was worth the effort," Daniel said matter-of-factly, the words devoid of  
emotion.   
  
Looking at his face, his eyes gazing resolutely down into the inky black depths of the coffee mug  
cradled tightly within his hand, I realised that he had steeled the words to be without feeling. Yet, I  
knew that they were painful and wondered just how many foster homes that he had been through.   
"How old were you when your parents died?"  
  
"Eight."   
  
Not much younger than Cassie. Yet close enough in age to be like Cassie, able to remember the love  
and care and the stablility that a family provided; something that Daniel had obviously lost on their  
death.   
  
I reached over and laid my hand on top of his, avoiding voicing any platitudes. No words could  
encompass the loss he had endured. Daniel raised his eyes to meet mine, his eyes faintly glistening  
behind the protection of his glasses.   
  
"Can we go somewhere else to talk?"  
  
I nodded. The atmosphere in the room was becoming vocal, the men laughing amongst themselves and  
our solemn discussion totally out of place. I thought about possible places we could go. My office  
was out of the question; the moment someone knew I was in, an urgent case would arise and I  
instinctively knew that this talk of ours would not happen twice. "What about your office?" While it  
wasn't the most comfortable place, it would probably be the one where Daniel would relax in the   
comfort of his surroundings.  
  
  
  
I walked by Daniel's side to his office and he altered his gait to accommodate my shorter step. When I had  
first noticed the slight limp in my early days in the SGC, I had been concerned that he had an injury which  
he wasn't disclosing. It had not taken me long to realise that it was a habit that he adopted on occasion and  
nothing that I should need to concern myself about.  
  
It's amazing how easily a person can be boxed and labelled based on their looks and career path. The halls  
of the SGC were rife with varying stories of Daniel's exploits during his of his start in the Stargate  
programme. Not having been involved from the beginning, I was reliant upon the rumours that came my  
way and my access to mission reports to decipher his unusual start as the only civilian involved in our search  
of the galaxy.   
  
Through the details of his inauguration into the programme by Dr. Langford, the exploits on Abydos and  
his subsequent year long sojourn on the planet, I'd been able to get a glimpse of the man I knew through  
the coloured glasses of the military.   
  
However, the military had never been one to deal with mission reports on a personal level and it was  
through knowing Daniel that I'd been able to learn that his reasons for going through the Stargate were a  
combination of his quest to find his wife, stolen as a host by the Goa'uld, coupled with his omniscient search  
for the anthropological history of the galaxy.   
  
Daniel had surprised me with his revelation. It made me sit up and take another look at the man who had  
solved the mysteries of the Stargate in a matter of two weeks, while it had been an enigma to the military,  
defying the explanation of the best military and civilian minds - Sam included.  
  
My thoughts were brought sharply back to the present when I collided with an airman as we rounded the  
corner to Daniel's office. Looking across at Daniel, it was obvious that he had also been lost in thought,  
most likely remembering a past he sought hard to forget. We both muttered our apologies and I realised  
that we had almost arrived at his office.  
  
I felt guilty that I had been the cause of bringing back those memories; the pain had been clearly evident,  
though Daniel had attempted to cover it.  
  
Daniel's office was open and he turned on the desk lamps, a gentle yellow glow illuminating the surrounding  
area and leaving the corners of the room shrouded in shadows. Daniel fished in his pocket for his keycard,  
checking for the metallic strip, before running it through the system and the door slid closed behind me.  
  
Entering his domain, I could feel myself being absorbed by the aura within the room. I'm not sure what it  
was exactly, whether it was the unique artifacts, the books containing the history and diversity of languages  
and ancestry sitting on the shelves or just the singularity of Daniel and his passion set against the backdrop  
of the military. It was different; Daniel was different.  
  
"Coffee?" Daniel asked, moving across towards a small table to the left, a coffee maker with recently  
brewed coffee in the pot.   
  
I nodded, realising for the first time the source of the other aroma which filled the room.   
  
I was surprised again. Whenever I had been in Daniel's office, it had always been in disarray; files piled  
haphazardly across his desk and books of various thicknesses opened for ready consultation. I wallowed  
in his ability to do so, the impeccable tidiness engendered by military training breaking my old habits and  
I had always enjoyed the break from tradition.   
  
Right now his office was spotlessly clean. His books sat upright like soldiers standing at attention, their  
usual lackadaisical pose corrected. The desk was clearly visible, files stacked neatly to the left hand side,  
pens and pencils sitting in their container. I squinted as I observed the container more closely; each pen  
was capped with a lid and every pencil was razor sharp, having obviously been sharpened within a  
millimeter of breaking.   
  
I pursed my lips. For a man who had been engrossed in translation of artifacts only a couple of hours ago,  
his office didn't give any sign of it. Not for the Daniel that I knew.   
  
A mug of coffee appeared suddenly under my nose and I realised that I had once again been engrossed  
in my own thoughts. I took the mug and sat down in the proffered seat. I smiled at Daniel and commented  
on how tidy his office was, trying to ease our way back towards the discussion we had begun.  
  
"Ah, yeah, well..." Daniel paused for a moment, tilting his mug towards him as he contemplated it again.   
He seemed to gain the confidence and strength to continue, "After your call, I couldn't concentrate and it  
seemed like the best thing to do."  
  
"Daniel, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable..." I began, but he cut me off before I could finish.  
  
"It's not so much that I'm uncomfortable talking about it, but that I really haven't discussed it with anyone.   
There hasn't been any reason or opportunity where it has been .... appropriate." His voice was quiet, his  
enunciation slow and distinct.   
  
"Obviously you think that it would help Cassie."  
  
"Yes I do. Dr. Fraiser..."   
  
"Janet," I cut him off and corrected.  
  
"Janet." Daniel inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement of my permission. "What is the one thing that  
stands out the most in your childhood?" Daniel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he sipped  
his drink.  
  
I had to think about that one. One particular event that stood out against everything else. I had trouble  
defining one; there were several that dominated my childhood - good and bad ones. I'm not one to usually  
discuss my feelings openly, but I felt compelled to follow Daniel's lead, intuitively knowing that he was  
leading me towards understanding.  
  
"It's hard to say, there are several that I remember. A sad one is the day my dog died. Funnily enough,  
his name was Jack. I was eight years old. I can still clearly remember my Mom telling me after we returned  
from the vet that he was old, but that he was going to be around for a little while yet. He died that night  
sleeping on the end of my bed. I screamed when I woke up and realised he was dead, that he'd died  
without me being able to say goodbye." Even now as I told Daniel about it, the words caught in my throat  
and my eyes watered as I remembered the small black and white body on the end of my bed, cold and stiff,  
his normally pink mouth tinged blue.  
  
"Death impacts strongly, especially on the young. For myself, it was the death of my parents - deaths that  
I witnessed and relived many times over in my mind, wondering if I could have made a difference, if there  
was something I could have changed that would have made everything okay."  
  
"Daniel, you were only eight years old. How could you have made a difference?"   
  
"I could have warned them; I could have died with them." His voice quavered slightly and I knew that he  
honestly had constantly questioned whether he could have saved them.  
  
"Daniel..."  
  
"Janet, I'm just pointing out a kid's way of looking at traumatic events that occur in their lives. That's the  
way I thought about my parents' death. You have already said that you regretted being unable to say  
goodbye to your dog before he died. That's how you perceived your actions - or lack of actions."  
  
"And extrapolating from that, Cassie will be putting her own slant on why she survived when everyone else  
died?"   
  
"It's an educated guess." Daniel put his untouched cup of coffee down on the desk beside him. "Only  
Cassie can give us an idea what she is thinking. She witnessed the death of not only her parents, but her  
entire race. She suffered an immeasurable loss. We don't even know how long she was alone on that  
planet."  
  
"So I should sit her down and talk to her about it."  
  
"I don't think it'll be quite that simple. There are other more practical ways to encourage her to discuss  
what she is feeling. Do you remember how your parents helped you cope with the loss of your dog?"   
  
"We held a little funeral and buried him in the backyard." My parents had prepared a little speech and I  
was even able to say a few words goodbye, words that I had been unable to say while he was alive.   
  
"What your parents did was give you a chance to grieve. Cassie really hasn't been given that opportunity.   
With Nirrti's attempt at using her to destroy earth, she was thrust into a worse situation. While she has  
gained new life on this world, we can't forget how much she has lost of her own world, of her heritage. One  
thing that I was unable to do as a kid was talk about the loss of my parents, of my identity. No one thought  
it was healthy for a child to remember the death of his parents. They forgot that I would also want to  
remember the good times with my parents. Cassie needs to talk about her past, not only about what  
happened to destroy it, but to also remember what her origins were and the love of her parents."  
  
"But won't this break down the bonding process, to keep re-introducing her past, reminding her of what  
she has lost?" I voiced the fear that had prevented me from bringing up what had happened. I wanted a  
happy, wholesome child and I didn't want to keep reminding her of what had brought her into my care in  
the first place. It was a selfish fear, but if I was honest, what was the reason I hadn't wanted to discuss her  
past. Was it to protect her or myself?  
  
"Cassie knows what she has lost. She needs to come to terms with that loss and also trust that you will not  
come between her and her memories. She needs to nurture them for her own good."   
  
"So how do I go about encouraging her? I've tried to make her feel that my home is her home, decorating  
her room as she wants. She's got the dog that Jack gave her and she's begun swimming lessons."   
  
"Give her your unconditional love. Bear with her during these difficult times. Try to understand what is  
motivating her behavioural problems." Daniel reached out and caught my hand. "Janet, we are all here  
to help you; Jack, Sam, Teal'c, General Hammond."  
  
I felt my eyes begin to fill as I realised that I had not sought out the family that had been a part of Cassie's  
life from the beginning. I had been trying to handle it all on my own, denying that I needed any help. What  
was it that I told all my staff? It was not a crime to ask a question if you don't know the answer. The crime  
would be trying to assume you knew the answer and risked a life in the process. It was now time to take  
a bit of my own advice.  
  
"I know you can't really seek help outside the SGC, but there are other avenues. There are lots of  
resource books on adopting older children and there's always the internet. You'd be amazed at the amount  
of information you can find."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah," Daniel, said getting up off his chair. He went across to his computer, turning it on. "Do you want  
to see some websites and discussion lists?"  
  
"Why not? I'll take all the help I can get." I gave him a smile as I pulled up my chair beside him and we  
began to surf the technological whizz that now provided a wealth of previously unattainable and closeted  
information to the broader public.  
  
The End 


End file.
